Spark Capture
by yoong
Summary: Twins-centric A secret from the past. What did Sunstreaker hide from Sideswipe? Was it too late for a confession?
1. Chapter 1

_A/N_-It's been so many years since I last wrote fanfic. I decide to try and come back to this field again, though I'm pretty sure that my English skills must have gone blunt due to a lack of use. So, please be patient with me. I also apologize for any OOCness because this is my first attempt at Transformers. I only watch the live-action movies Transformers, ROTF and the cartoon G1 and grasp the personality of all characters from fanfics around here and Wiki.

_Disclaimer_-I don't own Transformers, just borrow them for the sake of fun

_Summary_-A secret from the past. What did Sunstreaker hide from Sideswipe? Was it too late for a confession?

**Spark Capture**

-1-

It all started like a regular show of prank and punishment that all members of the Ark were so familiar with. Unfortunately, the damage to Red Alert's circuit was quite serious that Ratchet threatened to burn the twins to bits for making those false fire alarms, which had sent Red Alert's processor into overheat in his frantic attempt to locate the fire's origin. Only this time, Prowl decided to change the pattern of punishment. Ignoring their protest, the SIC added the separation as an extra punishment instead of just throwing them together into the brig. As a result, Sideswipe spent five days in the brig while Sunstreaker took double shifts on patrol in place of his brother's absence from service.

This seemed to have more than a little unpleasant effect on both of them as Jazz might put it. He visited Sideswipe a few times and his attempts to cheer him up were all backfired since the red twin turned deaf audio receptors to him, merely sat and sulked his time away.

Still, the worse could be said for Sunstreaker. His usual nasty mood escalated to downright scary. He rarely spoke to anyone. And there were no 'Hey, watch the paintjob!' or 'Get out of my way!' or any other curses thrown at mechs who accidentally bumped into him or brushed past him in the hallway. One might ask, how was that scary? Well, he didn't have to express it demonstratively or vocally. The silent fury shone in his ice blue optics was more than enough warning and everyone could feel the uneasy tension build up in the Ark like a calm before a storm. Keeping his observation, Jazz made a mental note to give a word of advice to Prowl later that he should _never_ order this form of punishment on the twins again.

Five days passed without the incident, much to everyone's relief. Sideswipe was released from the brig and Jazz accompanied him to the twins' shared quarters. The red twin seemed to return to his normal self, though looking a bit tired.

"Sides, get some rest," Jazz patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Looks like ya need it."

"I'm not that bad, Jazz," Sideswipe shrugged, giving a small reassuring smile. "Just a little tired, that's all."

"Hey, what 'bout refreshing with some nice music?" Jazz offered with a grin. Receiving another shrug as a sign of 'I don't mind', the saboteur made his way to the shelf near the set of bunks and reached for a stack of CDs. He was shorter than the twins by a head and couldn't quite reach to pick a CD on top of the stack. Instead, he succeeded to topple the stack, scattering all CDs on the floor, a few went disappeared under the bottom bunk.

"Oops, Sorry!" giving a sheepish smile, Jazz dropped to a crouch, quickly picked up the CDs. He stuck his head under the bunk to retrieve the stray CDs and blinked at what he saw.

"Sides, what's this?" his voiced muffled from under the bottom bunk.

"What?" Sideswipe asked in return.

"There's a box here, ya put it?" Jazz declared his discovery.

"No," Sideswipe frowned, having no clue of this mysterious box, which happened to be under _his_ recharge birth in _his_ room without him knowing its presence _at all_. "Bring it out."

Jazz backed out from under the bunk, dragging a dull metal box with him. Sideswipe gestured him to put the box on a desk beside the bunks. After a few minutes of regarding the suspicious box, the two mechs leveled their gazes to each other's faceplates.

"Well," Jazz started, "if it's not yers, then it gotta be Sunny's."

A frown reappeared on Sideswipe's faceplates. He didn't need Jazz to point out the obvious fact; the fact that bothered him far more than five blasted days in the brig. Really, it shouldn't bother him that much – everyone had private belongings, right? – and yet it did. What irked him was that the box was under Sunstreaker's bunk, which meant that Sunstreaker _deliberately_ hid it from him.

Him-his twin, his other half.

Sideswipe felt a pang of anger burst in his spark despite the weariness that threatened to overwhelm his system. When had it started, the secrecy between them? Maybe, if he could think straight, then he would be able to figure out that it was unreasonable to be upset over this trivial thing. But, he was too exhausted to think with his processor and decided to just feel with his spark instead. Why was he so tired? The confinement had never had such a drastic effect on him before. Then again, it had always been the both of them sharing the same fate in the brig, bickering and trading insults with one another from each separated cell. This time, however, he had endured it alone. Alone, behind energy bars, missing half of his spark, it was just like _those days_-No! It's not! Primus, all he wanted to do right now was to climb up on his top bunk and take a few precious hours of recharge while he could until it was time for him to go out on patrol. And here there was this slagging box, annoying the pit out of him, courtesy from his brother. Great, that was just great. He would have to thank the slagger later with a good beating-him-to-a-heap.

With that determination set in mind, he grabbed the lid to open the box.

"Should ya open it?" Jazz interrupted, nudging his side. "Sunny's shift's over by now, he'd be back any moment."

"Why not? It doesn't lock anyway." Sideswipe glanced at Jazz briefly and opened the lid. Both of them peered down at the content in the box.

The content appeared to be a neat pile of several paintings, if the one on top was any indication. It was a painting of random scenery on Cybertron, a city Jazz didn't recognize, and yet he had to admit it stirred some kind of longing in him, seeing the harmony of colours, the peaceful atmosphere radiating off the dim glint of metal buildings stood in pale light of the dawn. The thought of home struck the saboteur's processor even though he didn't know the place in the picture at all.

"Wow," he breathed an appreciative sigh, noticing the scribbling of the artist's name at the bottom of the picture. "Impressive. I've never thought Sunny's such a talented artist."

True, Jazz knew of Sunstreaker's ex-career before the war – being a member of the command unit, he had seen every soldier's profile stored in the database – but never did he see any tangible evidence to the information other than the warrior's vainity in beauty and perfection. Who would ever imagine the yellow warrior capable of creating the piece of fine art if they were to witness his ferocity in battle anyway?

A choked sound brought Jazz's attention back to his friend as he looked up to see Sideswipe's rigid faceplates and wide blue optics.

"What's wrong, Sides?" he asked, mild concern laced in his voice.

"…No way. They were all destroyed…ages ago. Sunny said so," Sideswipe stammered, more likely to himself, gaze roaming over all details in the painting.

Of course, he remembered it! It was one of Sunstreaker's most precious works back when they had been civilians on Cybertron. When Sunstreaker had been an artist and he had been a merchant. It was the painting of their hometown,Tytra-a beloved city, which had been annihilated in the war. He remembered how much his brother cherished it, that he had saved it along with some other pieces of work for his own collection and turned down all attempts to buy from those who had admired his works. He had last seen it during the early invasion of the Decepticons against their city before they had gotten separated amongst the commotion. When they had been reunited – a month later – and decided to leave Tytra for Kaon, his twin had turned all bitter and vicious, vowing that he had buried his past living as a weakling already. And he never touched a paintingpad much less held a paintbrush again.

His spark clenched painfully in his chassis as the realization finally dawned on him. Sunstreaker had been keeping these paintings all the while as well as keeping him in the dark. Why didn't he tell him? How slagging foolish he was to believe his brother had abandoned the art, a part of his self! He should have known how dear to spark his twin held these paintings.

Numbly, he picked up the painting to see another beneath it. Again, he remembered it was one of Sunstreaker's favourite pieces. The shimmering landscape of Crystal City, the most beautiful city on Cybertron. Faintly, he heard another appreciative sigh from Jazz, but paid it no mind. Setting down the one in his hands on the desk, the red Lamborghini reached for the second inside the box, intending to go through all of the secrets his other half had hidden from him. The third was a glorious sight of Iacon, proud and grandiose as it had been back in the Golden Age of Cybertron. He had no doubt that these paintings' value had to be priceless, neither because of their beauty nor because of the artist's fame, but due to the painfully obvious truth that they were the captured moments of these cities in the peaceful era, which had been destroyed long ago and, most likely, would never be seen again.

There was only one secret left now. Sideswipe realized as he reached to pick up the third paintingpad. Lifting the picture of Iacon, he caught a brief flash of blue and his spark gave a loud thud, which resonated from within his spark chamber throughout his whole frame. To his utter surprise, the last one at the bottom of the box was none other than his own portrait, looking back at him with intense blue optics.

"Hey, it's ya!" Jazz exclaimed cheerfully, draping an arm around his back to grasp his upper arm and squeeze it lightly. "Aw~ it's sweet, isn't it? He keeps da painting of yers!" he drawled out teasingly.

However, Sideswipe was far from being flattered; he boggled and eyed his own portrait warily.

"It's weird," he said, unable to tear his gaze away from the picture. "Sunny didn't often make portraits. Actually, I've never seen this painting before."

The red warrior seemed to hesitate a few moments before gingerly picked up the last painting from the box and set it down on top of the stack he had managed on the desk. There was something disturbing about this painting, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Sunstreaker had rarely made portraits if he hadn't been paid for. Sideswipe had asked once and been given answer that his twin would paint only what had captivated his spark and by his standard there had been no mechs or femmes who had been able to do so. Sideswipe had pouted and said Sunstreaker could have made his portrait then since he had been his twin. In which, the artist had merely laughed off, saying he would rather have made his own portrait because he had been more beautiful than the red twin. And as far as he remembered, there had been no portrait in Sunstreaker's collection. So, where did this mysterious one come from?

Still, what disturbed Sideswipe the most wasn't the painting's origin, but what it displayed instead. The painted Sideswipe's physical appearance was exactly as same as his, though without the Autobot symbol on the chestplates, which meant that it was a reflection of his before joining the Autobots. It looked eerily too calm, emotionless even, almost like a statue, features smooth, lipplates pressed in a thin line.

Its optics, however,…

Another thud echoed in his spark, pushing him off balance, forcing him to jerk a step backward and his hand went to grasp his chestplates over his spark chamber.

"Whoa, Sides! Man, ya okay?" Jazz caught and helped steadying him.

"I'm fine," he replied distractedly; gaze still fixed at the phantom in the picture. Was it just him, or did the painted optics really glow? He focused all attention towards the portrait and he swore to Primus, the painted optics glowed again! His spark vibrated softly in its chamber as his portrait stared back at him emotionlessly, but oh so intensely as though it was becoming alive while his own life seemed to slowly seep out of him, leaving him dazed and numb.

That was until a familiar voice snapped.

"What the frag are you doing?"

*****


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N_-Thank you all readers for your warming support in every way. I'm glad you like this story. Guess I succeed in getting you curious as to what's happening. Well, you gotta read to find that out!

**Spark Capture**

-2-

"What the frag are you doing?"

A harsh demand cut through waves of fatigue and dizziness that clouded Sideswipe's processor, bringing him to his senses, and he blinked as the light faded from the portrait's optics. He was suddenly aware of his surroundings, Jazz's startled nervousness as he jumped slightly and hesitantly turned towards the door, and the presence of his other half, oozing rage and tension as if he was in a battlefield, ready to slag the Decepticons.

Jazz knew he was in deep slag; getting caught red handed while you were messing with Sunstreaker's property equaled a lot of violence and damage. The yellow mech strode into the room, sparing a glance at him before fixing the glare at his own twin, optics gleaming dangerously like frosted ice cubes. Glancing over at his partner in crime, he noticed the red twin stand his ground, optics narrowed and a frown forming on his faceplates. He seemed to have collected himself from whatever trance he had fallen into, and braced himself for an inevitable attack, and got ready to fight back like a warrior he was. The saboteur gulped, sensing the foreboding tension about to explode.

This wasn't going to turn out well.

To say Sunstreaker was pissed was an understatement. He had taken double shifts of patrol five days in a row. Five days of nothing but heated sunlight that bleached his _paintjob_, rocks that scraped his _paintjob_, sand and dirt that accumulated in gaps between his armour platings, his joints as well as dirtied his _paintjob_. The duty had also left him no time to clean himself properly, let alone to wax or repair his poor_ paintjob_. Now, he looked no better than other mechs; his handsomeness, his perfection and his _pride_ were all ruined. All of that for a prank he hadn't done! Sideswipe was the one who had come up with the idea, plotted all details and set the gadgets while he had merely watched and given some comments of how stupid his twin had been. Damned Prowl and his logic circuit to burning Pit! The SIC hadn't allowed him to visit Sideswipe in the brig during the punishment, so he hadn't been able to give his twin an audioful tirade he had so deserved. On top of that, the patrol, which had consumed most of his time and energy, had been anything but eventful – no Decepticons for him to beat the slag out of. Even those pesky minibots seemed to detect his fragged-off mood and avoided him as well, leaving him stranded in his rage alone.

Fury was so thick around him, humming steadily at the back of his mind like an annoying engine, driving his patience to the edge like a taut wire ready to snap.

"I ask," Sunstreaker growled, optics never left his twin's faceplates, "what the _frag_ are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing," Sideswipe replied sarcastically, not in the least intimidated, lipplates curled into a mirthless smirk. "Just broaden my knowledge's extent about my deceiving brother."

The glare intensified; if looks could kill, Jazz was certain that Sideswipe would be deactivated by now.

"What did you call me?" snarled Sunstreaker.

"You heard me," jerking his thumb back to a stack of paintings on the desk, Sideswipe let more sarcasm creep into his voice, "I've just found these _supposed_ to be long gone paintings under your bunk, care to explain, bro?"

Optics narrowed to slits, Sunstreaker snarled through gritted denta. "Don't you dare talk to me like that, snooping fragtard!"

"Why can't I?" retorted Sideswipe. Then, the smirk faded from his faceplates, replaced with a serious look, and the mocking tone in his voice turned into a sombre one. "You lied to me," he stated flatly with a hint of hurt in his optics and a voiceless question asking through their bond. _'Why didn't you tell me?'_

Sunstreaker scowled, seethed to be on the receiving end of an accusation, when it should be the other way around. He had just gone through the punishment in place of Sideswipe, and the ingrate had the nerve to return his favour by blaming him!

"I didn't lie."

"Oh, for Primus' sake!" Sideswipe exploded, his forced calmness broken by frustration. "You said you left the past behind without regret. Then, tell me bro, what does this mean?" He extended his hand towards the desk, palm upturned.

"It means nothing," Sunstreaker replied coldly though his optics gave away the last warning that his self-restraint nearly ran out.

"Oh yeah?" taunted Sideswipe. "You don't give a slag about these paintings, yet you keep them all the time!" Shouting, the red mech flung his hand in frustration, unintentionally knocking the stack of paintings, scattering all paintingpads on the floor. One of them came to a stop at his twin's feet. A gasp of guilty surprise escaped Sideswipe's lipplates at the result of his action. Looking up at his twin's faceplates, he hurried to apologize – to say he didn't mean to do it – but the words died in his vocalizer at a fleeting flash in Sunstreaker's optics. He watched helplessly as his brother's expression went from grim to homicidal; an expression saved for the _enemy_ only. A realization sunk in, he had crossed the line. Literally.

Sunstreaker heard something snap in the distant, but paid it no mind. All he could feel now was fury, a need to kill, to maim or to destroy before he lost his sanity. He had to go now. Go and find something to vent out this anger. Something, anything… He tore his glare away from Sideswipe's faceplates to look at the paintingpad at his feet. Yes, it was the fragging cause. He had been unable to draw or paint anything again after making this one. He picked it up and hurled it with all his might at the far wall of the room. It smashed into several shards, falling, clattering on the floor. Then, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

The red warrior visibly flinched at the shattering of his portrait as if he was receiving a physical blow, or perhaps, he had expected the paintingpad to be thrown at himself, Jazz mused. Even the officer was surprised that the quarrel hadn't ended up with the brothers in a grapple, considering the yellow one's recent mood.

"Sunny!" Sideswipe's vocalizer re-functioned belatedly. A brief, yet painful thud echoed in his spark the instant the painting shattered, sending a wave of sharp pain throughout his frame, burning all his sensors momentarily. Recovered, he took a step to the door and reached to Sunstreaker in their bond to… He lurched forward, falling on his knees and a forearm with a loud crash.

"Sides!" cried Jazz, rushing to his friend. "Ya okay? What happened?!"

"I'm okay," Sideswipe replied haltingly, shaking his head a bit as Jazz helped him to his feet. "He blocks me out, that fragger!" The sudden closed-off of the bond, like a door slammed shut in his faceplates, swiftly off balanced him, leaving a strangely hollow feeling in his chassis as though a part of his spark was missing.

"Wanna go to medbay?" offered Jazz. "Ya don't look well. Let's have yer check-up."

"You're kidding?" Sideswipe raised an optic ridge, giving the officer a questioning look that clearly said 'Are you crazy?' "Ratchet's gonna have my head off before he starts checking up on me. Look Jazz, I'm fine, really. Just clear this mess up and take a few hours of recharge and I'll be ready to beat my stupid brother to a crap." He went to pick up the painting lying nearby while Jazz helped picking up another. After putting three paintings back in the box, they stood and regarded remains of the portrait. Venting out a sigh, Sideswipe crouched and collected all pieces, then he stood up and went to drop them in a trash disposal.

"Well, I gotta go now," Jazz said reluctantly, obviously concerned for the other mech. "My duty at the control room's 'bout to start in five minutes. Take care yerself and get some rest." He went to the door, then paused and looked over his shoulder, flashing a comforting smile. "See-ya."

Sideswipe gave a smile of his own, though it looked a bit strained and tired. "See-ya."

Once Jazz left, the smile vanished from his faceplates. He looked over to a box on the desk, contemplating how to sort out the trouble with Sunstreaker. Another wave of dizziness washed over his processor and he decided to think about it later. He climbed up and settled down on the top bunk. Off lining his optics, he slipped into a recharge almost immediately, but not without a glimpse of the portrait's glowing optics in his mind.

*****


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N_-Another short update; there's nothing much in this chapter, just a remembrance of the twins – a glimpse of their past. This might give you an idea of 'what's up with the portrait'. Hope you like it.

**Spark Capture**

-3-

_He hated _it_. He wanted to destroy _it_, but couldn't bring himself to do that._

_Frustrated, he batted away a blank paintingpad, snarling as the pad bounced on the floor with a 'CRACK'. Blames were sure to be thrown at him for such a waste of scarce materials – actually, everything was scarce now since the Decepticons had seized the city – but he really didn't care. He couldn't draw or paint whatsoever anyway. Looking down at his hands, he slowly curled them into tight fists in rage and disgust. Hands that once belonged to an artist now were of a killer._

_How many mechs had he killed that day, four or five? He couldn't tell; all that happened after he had snapped was hazy and fogged, somehow distant like looking into someone else's memory. When he had finally come to his senses, his hands as well as most parts of his frame had been covered in energon. He remembered ripping limbs from the sockets, tearing cables and wires, and pounding on armour platings until they cracked. But, he couldn't remember faceplates, expressions, or even cries of those Decepticons in his blind rage – the only emotion he had felt at that time, and still felt now._

_Whirling to a desk, jerking opened the drawer and snatching _it_ up, he glared at _it _with a genuine hatred like he never felt towards any of his paintings before. He wanted so much to smash_ it_ with his fist, to hurl _it_ away, to dump _it_ in a junk disposal, or at least, to turn his optics away and never looked at _it_ again, for _it_ was a proof of his losing ability in the art. _It_ resembled his twin, and yet _it_ looked nothing like him at all. Where was the joy in his optics? Where was the lopsided grin? He could always see his twin's cheeky expression vividly, even with his optics offline, as it was the primary part of his memory. Why couldn't he paint it? _

It_ was a proof of his failure, a proof of his death. He was dead and still alive at the same time. No, he wasn't dead, not entirely, just a part of him that was an artist – a weakling. He couldn't be dead as long as his twin lived. Sideswipe wasn't dead, for that he was certain even though he couldn't feel him. The bond was clouded and blurred, resonated a dull buzz like a radio tuned to an incorrect frequency._

_Sideswipe was alive, he had to be. And he would find him at any cost, even if he had to become a cold sparked killer himself._

_He traced fingertips on the smooth cold surface of the portrait along the line of Sideswipe's emotionless faceplates, imagining it was a warm dermal plating. Off lining his optics, he lowered his head until his forehead touched the paintingpad. He wished with his entire spark that Sideswipe was here. And for a moment, he felt it is his twin's forehead that touched his._

---

A loud shrill honk broke Sunstreaker's reverie. Cursing vehemently, he swerved away from a car coming from the opposite direction before he could crash it. He probably had swayed out of his lane in his musing. Once he got a grip of himself, the yellow Lamborghini accelerated to full speed, engine roaring loudly with temper.

Why did he feel so awful? He had done nothing wrong since he had every right to be angry. He remembered his twin's stricken expression at his outburst before he stormed out of their quarters. That served him right. Sideswipe had it coming for messing with him. The slagger was lucky that he didn't kick his aft.

Then, where did this pang of sorrow come from? It only added to a jumbled of emotions whirling in his spark, fueling his rage even more, and thus, forcing him to close the bond before he could unconsciously harm his twin through their bond. He had to let off the steam somewhere else; breaking Sideswipe's portrait wasn't enough.

The portrait, his last painting, his failure. He had wanted to destroy it for so long, right? He shouldn't feel guilty over it, should he? Sunstreaker cursed again, for once, he couldn't answer to himself.

*****

_He lunged at the barricade of the cell as soon as he was shoved inside and the energy bars activated, illuminating the dark empty cell with bright light. The high voltage electricity coursed through his frame at the contact, sending him flying backward, his backplates and the back of his helm hit the wall with a resounding bang. He scrambled to his feet and slammed himself at the bars again, only to get the same result. This time he banged his head hard enough that it cracked, leaking a thin line of energon down the side of his helm. Not that he cared in the least. Picking himself up, swaying slightly, and he was at the bars again, lashing out with a foot and both arms, which were cuffed together at the wrists. He beat the unrelenting barricade repeatedly, though each blow was becoming weaker and weaker until he stopped at last, standing, heaving and glaring. Raising arms, palms opened, he grabbed the energy coated metal bars, ignoring the burning sensation. Then, he slowly sank to his knees as his strength left him along with hysterical fits of panic._

_Harsh choked breathing was the only sound in the area now. This wing of the prison was the solitary zone, consisted of highly secured solitary cells to confine the most dangerous criminals of Tytra. Most of the cells were empty. Oh the irony, he was given a whole private area, away from crowded cells, when he was the most afraid of being alone. The creepy silence was too much. He couldn't stand it! It was the first time in his life that he was alone, totally alone in all senses, and it freaked him out. He couldn't feel Sunstreaker through the bond. No, his twin wasn't dead because the bond didn't fade off. It still existed, but somehow dulled so that he couldn't find the presence of his other half spark._

_At first, he had been patient and optimistic. He had even been confident that he could get out of here on his own. Slaggit, he had been one of a few captives daring to provoke the Decepticons who crammed them in the prison after they had taken control over the major part of the city. Mostly, because he had known through the bond that Sunstreaker had been somewhere safe and would be coming for him. And that had been enough until… _

_Uncurling fingers from the energy bars, he drew his hands back, staring at the scorches covered fingers and palms. Electricity burnt the platings and shocked the neural lines so that he barely felt his digits. Still, he could almost see energon soak them, feel the thick blue liquid dripping from them, drops of energon on his faceplates and a cold gray frame slumped on top of him._

_Trembling, he fell back against the wall; hands covered optics as if to shut out the gruesome image and reality from his processor. He had to, _needed to_ get out of here and be with his twin! Behind the wall of hands, he saw Sunstreaker's faceplates leaning to touch forehead with his. His spark soared at the contact and he felt as though a part of it was leaving his frame to be with its other half._

---

Sideswipe awoke with a start, hand clutching chestplates above his spark chamber in an unconscious attempt to prevent the surreal sensation of his spark extracted from his frame. His spark fluttered wildly before gradually settled to its normal rhythm. His fuel tank still churned with nausea from a lingering feel of energon on his hands and its smell in his nasal sensor. It took his processor a while to realize that it was just a dream and calmed down his frantic systems.

A dream. Strange, why did he dream _that_ of all the things? It was the least favourite memory he wished to erase from his memory bank, even worse than his days as gladiator in Kaon. The first time he killed a mech. It had been an act of self-defence, yet it hadn't been any less terrifying for him to suddenly become a killer. He shuddered at the recollection of the incident and its even _worse_ consequence. He had been shocked out of his mind and lost his connection to the bond. A near month of being alone, separated from his twin in all senses, had driven him to the brink of insanity.

Ah, yes, that's it. Separation. The brig and separation might have brought him the familiarity of situation. The warrior smiled bitterly to himself; it seemed Sunstreaker wasn't the only one who didn't leave the past behind after all.

Thinking of Sunstreaker, he reached into the bond and sighed when he felt the block is still intact, sorry to be shut out and still happy to be able to feel the presence of his other half. His brother was really mad to shut him out this long. Looking down at the box on the desk, Sideswipe decided to apologize to his twin when he was back from the patrol.

*****


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N_-For readers who wonder if there's some mystical connection between Sides and the portrait, well you're right, though I think it's more like a connection between the twins' sparks with the portrait as some sort of intermediate. And here comes the battle scene! Sorry for other Bots and Cons' fans, Sides is going to get the spotlight because, well you know, this is a twins-centric fic =P

**Spark Capture**

-4-

The patrol was nothing out of ordinary up until now, which was good on Sideswipe's part. Normally, he would call it boring to spend time and energy in such a non-creative and no fun way, when his term for 'creative' was to plot a new prank to play on someone and 'fun' meant to beat the slag out of some Decepticons. Today, however, he only wished the patrol would end as soon as possible so he could start looking for Sunstreaker and got this peculiar tension between them settled, the sooner – the better. He would rather have his brother lunge at him and they engaged in a fist fight than being left unharmed and blocked from his brother's spark in a near silent bond like this.

"_You're quiet, Sideswipe. What're you thinking?"_ Smokescreen's voice transmitted through an open comm. line and Sideswipe's scanner detected the blue car speeding up from the rear of the convoy to level beside him. He was a bit surprised at the mild concern in the other's voice. Sure, Smokescreen was good at behaviour observation, a habit picked up from his experiences in gambling, but how come he could tell Sideswipe was in a troubled mood? Was he that obvious?

Before he could come up with a response, another voice chimed in. _"Wanna set a pool, Smokescreen? I bet my rudder he's scheming a new prank,"_ Powerglide piped up gleefully.

"_Shut up, Powerglide, before I shoot you down,"_ Sideswipe shot back at the minibot plane flying above the convoy, revving his engine angrily. Normally, he wouldn't mind a tease. Sometimes, he even laughed along with it. But not today. He simply wasn't in the mood.

"_Oh, bring it on," _surprised at first, then irritated, the plane retorted. _"Come and get me up here. I dare you!"_

No doubt, Sideswipe was one of the best Autobot fighters on the ground, but he wouldn't be able to catch up with Powerglide in the air despite a jetpack on his back. Simply because he wasn't built for the aerial fight. In response to a challenge, the Lamborghini seriously considered making good on his threat for once.

"_Calm down you two,"_ Smokescreen placated before the situation got out of hand.

"_I didn't know we've got Sunstreaker on our team today."_ Brawn commented dryly, driving ahead of the warrior.

"_Sideswipe, you've just been out of the brig for four hours,"_ Trailbreaker said in a warning tone as he was the leader of the patrol team. _"Don't do things that will get you back in there so soon."_

Sideswipe grunted, but didn't say anything. He grudgingly admitted that Trailbreaker was right. After the dream of that dreadful recollection, the last thing he needed was another brig time, especially when his first priority was to make a truce with Sunstreaker.

They were the only group of vehicles driving on a road (or in Powerglide's case, flying above it) in a narrow valley between a steep rocky precipice on the right and a rather high slope of hill on the left. A perfect area for an ambush, which was why there had to be a flier on the patrol team to keep an optic out for any traces of the Decepticons.

Powerglide, on the other hand, seemed to be unwilling to back off since Sideswipe had picked a fight first. Distracted, he snorted and was about to say something more, when an attack suddenly broke out.

A laser fire shot to the edge of his right wing, Powerglide yelped in surprise as more shots were directed at him. The group of all too familiar jets appeared from the horizon, zooming towards their targets. Starscream, the head of the formation, attacked Powerglide while his wing mates took care of the Autobots on the ground.

"Decepticons!" shouted Trailbreaker, screeching to a halt as laser fires and missiles began to rain down on them. The Autobots transformed and found that they were trapped with no boulders or trees they could use as shelters.

"Get out of the road!" Trailbreaker barked a command, activating his force shield to cover Brawn, who was nearest to him. "Retreat to the hill. We have to get up there before they destroy the cliff and bury us!"

Staggering, Sideswipe was disoriented from a haste of his transformation. Something in his systems seemed off, probably a result of insufficient recharge. What a nice chance to fight against the Decepticons! A loud rumble vibrated from the ground, shaking his equilibrium's sensor even more. Was it just him, or did the earthquake really happen?

"Sideswipe!" Smokescreen's cry of dismay jolted him to look up from the ground, and saw his friends already backing away from the road. Trailbreaker's shout was drowned out as the rumble from behind got louder, and the ground shook more violently. He swiftly turned back, only to see tons of rocks tumbling down the precipice like a…avalanche.

Something knocked him from his feet and the ground met his faceplates. After the cacophony died, he propped himself up on his elbows and blinked at what he saw. Smokescreen was half buried to the waist under a mound of boulders and rocks. Apparently, he had saved Sideswipe at the cost of himself by shoving him away.

"Smokescreen!"

The half buried mech lifted his head up groggily, trying to push his body up as best as he could while Trailbreaker and Brawn rushed to them.

"I – I'm okay," Smokescreen croaked, gears in his joints creaking loudly. "Just my legs got crushed."

Trailbreaker covered the spot where Smokescreen was buried with his force shield, and Brawn started lifting off the boulders. Getting to his feet, Sideswipe turned his attention to the battle as he was the only one ready to fight. He took out his rifle and shot at Thundercracker, sending the Seeker spiraling down and crashing somewhere on the mountain, much to Powerglide's relief. The minibot plane was using his acrobatic flying skills to the fullest in order to evade volleys of missiles from Starscream and Skywarp. A glimpse of purple on the edge of a precipice at the middle level of the mountain caught his attention; Sideswipe aimed another shot at Rumble, returning the favour to the Cassetticon, who obviously had caused an avalanche. Rumble managed to evade so that the shot hit the non-vital part, and retreated from the edge of the precipice.

Activating his jetpack, Sideswipe took off to the sky, intending to finish off Rumble. Damaged or not, the Decepticon with pile drivers on the mountain high above them was a risk he wasn't willing to take. Suddenly, Skywarp teleported in front of him and shot him with a laser fire. At such close range, it was sheer luck that he jerked away from Skywarp reflexively, and the shot only blasted his rifle away from his hand. Then, he kicked Skywarp at the cockpit, sending him to join Thundercracker's fate.

Reaching the precipice's edge, Sideswipe landed on a space at the side of the mountain. Looking for Rumble, he was certain he could take the Cassetticon without his rifle. However, he wasn't prepared for a triple changer, who appeared to be a part of the ambush as well. Blitzwing in tank mode aimed his cannon at the Autobot warrior and fired.

"Frag!"

Twisting, Sideswipe managed to turn so that a shot grazed past his side instead of catching him squarely in the chest, burning his entire side painfully. Still, he fired his shoulder cannon in retaliation, which caught Blitzwing off guard and damaged the triple changer severely. The rebound from a shot coupled with his precarious footing causing him to lose his ground, and he fell backwards off the precipice. His backplates scraped along the rocky surface of the precipice, which somehow slowed down his fall, leaving a streak of red on the rock face.

The next thing he knew, he crashed to the earth on his back ungracefully, also banged the back of his head rather soundly. The impact set off several warnings of damage flashing before his optics, immobilizing him for a moment, leaving him sprawled helplessly to the swooping Laserbeak. A blast caught the Cassetticon before he could attack the Autobot warrior, bashing the flier away to land as a twitching heap on the ground.

Struggling to his feet, Sideswipe took in the situation of the battle going on here on the ground. Smokescreen sat sprawled against the mound of rocks, which had buried him earlier, a laser gun in his hand and a tired smile on his faceplates. Again, he had saved Sideswipe despite being injured himself. Sideswipe nodded, returning a smile as a sign of 'thank you', and darted his optics to see how the others were doing. Trailbreaker was fighting Soundwave, and he seemed to have an upper hand since Soundwave couldn't give him any serious damages, thanks to the force shield. Brawn was grappling with Ravage, managing to throw the feline away, and wasting no time to chase after him. Sideswipe contemplated whether he should help Trailbreaker or get to cover Smokescreen, when a distress call was sent through a comm. line.

"_Hey guys, could you help me out here?!"_ Powerglide's voice was panicked. The minibot plane was practically descending in his flight with smoke fuming from his right wing and Starscream chasing closely behind.

Seeing as the others were occupied at the moment, Sideswipe decided to help Powerglide, activating his jetpack. The jetpack sputtered and died. Cursing, he tried to operate the device a few times, only to get the same result. Running a scan over his systems, he found that his jetpack and his shoulder cannon were damaged from his fall. He looked up again to see Powerglide descend lower and closer to the hill.

Given the situation, he decided it was a time for Jet Judo.

Sideswipe ran up the hill, following Powerglide's descent. When he reached the top of the hill, he leapt on an unaware Starscream, startling the slag out of the Seeker.

"Get off of me! You, parasitic Autoscum!" Starscream shrieked indignantly, taking a sharp turn to the left in attempt to fling the mech away from him.

"Make me!" cackled Sideswipe, pounding a fist on the Seeker's wing.

Letting out a frustrated cry, Starscream shot spirally upward, almost succeeding to lose the clinging Autobot, but Sideswipe hung on tightly with a crazy laughter. Oh, how he loved the thrill of Jet Judo! He gripped and twisted the barrel of laser blaster attached to each wing, breaking them off one by one.

"Oh, I'm acrophobic," Sideswipe cried in a mock fear. "Let's go down, it's time to kiss the ground, Screamer!"

He tightened his grip on both wings and began to bend them. The intention was to bring Starscream to a crash landing, and he would jump off when they were near the earth enough that he would land with least damages, and left Starscream to his doom. That sounded like a good plan; he was certain he could do-

Out of the blue, a thud resonated in his spark, sending a wave of shock throughout his frame, numbing him so that his grip loosened involuntarily, which was an opportunity Starscream was looking for.

The Decepticon swiftly transformed to his robot mode, successfully ditching away the Autobot clinging to him. For a brief moment, he locked optics with the red warrior, seeing the surprise and disbelief in the blue optics; he was certain the other saw the pleased satisfaction in his red optics as well.

It was a brief surreal sensation of being airborne before his processor registered that he was indeed falling. Sideswipe looked up to see Starscream suspending in the air above him, sneering coldly at him, optics flashing with glee. A thought crossed his mind at the unexpected turn of situation as Starscream raised his arm with a Null ray gun aiming at him; it was a simple 'I'm so slagged'.

"Goodbye Autobot," Starscream said airily.

A shot hit Sideswipe at the chestplates right above his spark chamber. And then, there was nothing but darkness.

*****


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N_-I know Sunny's a mean jerk in this fic(well, he_ is_ in many fics; that's what I like about him), but there's a reason from his past and you're going to find out in this chapter.

**Spark Capture**

-5-

Sunstreaker sat on a boulder in the midst of vast deserted area of rock and sand, his out-of-ammo gun lying on the earth beside the boulder, his hands scraped and dented, several knuckle joints torn from the fists VS rocks encounters, dribbling energon on the sand. For once, he completely ignored the scratches on his perfect paintjob or the dents on his amour plating – a result of his earlier rampage. He had spent hours working out his rage, shooting, kicking and punching randomly at anything standing in his way. When he had finally calmed down, or perhaps exhausted himself, he stopped all actions and just dropped to sit on a remaining boulder, which somehow miraculously survived the destruction. He looked unseeingly at the sight of rubble and craters, lost in his thought.

He still had his block firmly placed in the bond, shutting out any communications from Sideswipe's spark. Now that he had worked out most of his rage, the reason he blocked out his twin wasn't to prevent himself from harming the other through the bond, but due to an unspoken anxiety of what he would respond to the other's insistent enquiry, that was sure to come bombarding him once he opened the bond. He knew Sideswipe wouldn't back off, no matter how much he tried to shove the topic aside. He remembered the hurt and betrayal in Sideswipe's optics as he demanded the explanation why Sunstreaker had hidden his paintings from him. It felt awful to be accused by his twin, and at the same time, to know that he had hurt him badly. He understood his brother's pain. Being halves of the same spark, they _never_ kept secrets from each other; at least, that was true on Sideswipe's part. To discover that his other half had hidden something important from him was downright painful and unforgivable. Sunstreaker knew he would feel the same if the situation were the other way around.

Still, there was no way in the Pit he was going to yield to Sideswipe's demand.

Back on the peaceful days of Tytra, Sunstreaker had been an artist and his twin had been a merchant. Despite the rumour of a civil war going on in other cities, they had believed Tytra was safe and their livings would never be changed. However, the stupid hope had been shattered when the Decepticon army tore down the city's defence, raiding, maiming, and destroying everything in their path.

Amongst the riot, they still had been together, his hand clutching Sideswipe's in a dead grip. They had been fleeing along with other citizens to the government's hall, where the final defence was still intact; that was when he saw smoke fuming from the direction of their home, his thought darting to his cherished paintings and his hand letting go of his twin's. He had told Sideswipe to flee to the government's hall and wait for him there while he went to retrieve his paintings. Startled, Sideswipe had protested heatedly, totally rejecting the idea of separation, but Sunstreaker had made up his mind. He had transformed and sped off in the direction of their home, ignoring his brother's shout of his name. He had been certain Sideswipe would be safe at the government's hall and the separation would be for only a little while.

Little had he known how terribly wrong he had been.

When he had rushed to their home, he only saw debris and rubble, half of his paintings broken beyond recognition. Frantically, he had searched for the painting of Tytra, his most beloved, when a Decepticon appeared out of nowhere, nearly clipping his head off. At that time, he had thought he would be deactivated definitely. And then, there had been some mechs rushing in, and everything had ended quite quickly. His saviours had been a group of Tytra's citizens and soldiers, who didn't give up on fighting. They had started forming a Tytra resistance force, gathering survivors and fighting against the Decepticons.

To his horror, they had informed him that the Decepticon army had seized the government's hall and offices in the heart of the city. Little had survived and escaped, but most city's officers and citizens had been captured, many had died. He had been panicked – his spark reaching out to Sideswipe's in their bond – then relieved when he got a flicker of emotion rushing back to his spark. Sideswipe had been nervous, maybe a bit afraid, but most likely safe and sound. And that had been enough until…

Five days later, as the resistance force had been attacked by the Decepticons – Sunstreaker had been kept at the back with other civilians who couldn't defend themselves, much less fight back – the worst feelings he had ever felt had invaded his spark. Panic, fear, pain, shock, and then absolute horror had flooded his spark, drowning out his own emotions. Then, as suddenly as they had come, all feelings from the other end of the bond had vanished along with the presence of his other half spark, leaving him _totally_ alone.

He had stood frozen, aghast at the rush of Sideswipe's emotions and its abrupt disappearance; then rage had consumed his entire being, turning him into a monster. All sounds had muted, except for the pounding of his raging spark. And his vision had been dyed with redness.

When he had come around, he had been covered in energon, most of which hadn't been his, a Decepticon's head dangling from his grasp. The Decepticons had been retreating, some eyeing him warily. Even the resistance force, his own side, had given him the same look; some had looked frightened and shrunk away from him. At that moment, his processor had registered two things; one being that he had become a killer, the other being a realization that the bond still had existed after all.

Sideswipe had been alive, but something had happened to him, thus resulted in his spark's disappearance from the bond.

That knowledge hadn't sat well with Sunstreaker though. Sure, there had been times of separation in their livings, but their sparks had _never_ been apart. He had always been able to feel the presence of his twin in the bond, and vice versa. To lose that connection all of a sudden had been more than unnerving; it had nearly devastated his senses and sanity. His spark had searched for its other half repeatedly, but got no response from the out of tune bond. In desperation, he had painted the portrait of Sideswipe to at least have some sort of resemblance of his twin with him. The portrait, however, had all but frustrated him even more, for its lack of emotion shown in Sideswipe's faceplates whether it had been because of his jumbled mind or his fading skills as an artist-becoming-a-killer.

He had been furious at everything, at Sideswipe for daring to disappear from their bond, at the war tearing his life into pieces, at the Decepticons separating them, at the resistance force using him as a tool to fight against the enemies, and at _himself_ for letting go of his twin in the first place. His mind had set on the only one purpose, to get back his other half, and thus allowed himself to fall deeper into his rage so that he would be able to fight and destroy anything preventing him from accomplishing his purpose. As days had gone by, he had become more and more vicious; absorbed in fury, hatred and desperation that he had nearly lost his mind. In the end, it had been Sideswipe who found him instead, catching him before he fell completely into the clutches of lunacy.

Now that he thought back to the darkest memory of his life, Sunstreaker realized why he hadn't thrown away his paintings, especially Sideswipe's portrait. As much as he had hated it, the portrait had been the only piece of resemblance of Sideswipe at that time, the only thing to remind him of his twin and pull him out of the rage each time he had lost himself in the killing, the only thing keeping him sane.

That was utterly pathetic. How could he tell that to Sideswipe? His twin believed he is strong, and his pride wouldn't let it be otherwise. He had to be strong. They both had to be, for each other's sake, to support each other. Still, it didn't feel right…

A high pitch sound signaling an incoming transmission startled the yellow warrior out of his musing. Glaring at the transmitter, he activated the device nonetheless.

"Frag off," he growled into the comm. line, letting whoever made a call know he wasn't pleased at being disturbed in his off duty hours.

"_Sunstreaker, where are you?"_ Ironhide's voice sounded…tense? That was odd. _"Get back to the Ark, your presence is required."_

"None of your fragging business," he snapped. "I'm off duty, so leave me alone."

"_The patrol team was attacked,"_ irritated, the old warrior raised his voice. _"Your brother is injured. Does it look like my business to call you?"_

"What?!" Sunstreaker shouted. The bond was reopened instantly, and his spark plunged into it, searching for Sideswipe's. There his other half spark was, quiet and weak, barely present at the other end of the bond. He knew suddenly that something was definitely wrong. This was no ordinary injury. Their sparks were connected and would always respond to each other's call, even in physical static. He tried to communicate, but Sideswipe was unresponsive. In fact, it felt like the bond was slowly fading. Sideswipe was _fading_.

Ironhide's reply was lost on him as he hastily transformed and sped off to the Ark.

*****

A loud roaring of engine echoed from the other end of the hallway caught attention of everyone standing in front of the medbay's entrance. Trailbreaker and Brawn shared an apprehensive look as the sound got louder, coming closer to them while Ironhide just crossed his arms over his chassis and scowled as a yellow streak tore through the hallway towards the medbay at a lightning speed. The yellow Lamborghini screeched to a halt and swiftly transformed to his robot form, jumping to his feet in front of them.

Stumbling, Sunstreaker groggily lifted his head up and looked past the three mechs in front of him as though they weren't there, fixing his gaze at the medbay's door. He looked dazed, optics haunted. Then, he stalked to the door, brushing past Trailbreaker without any words. The black mech turned and put his hand on the yellow twin's shoulder, holding him in place.

"Sunstreaker," Trailbreaker said. "Ratchet asks for your presence, but you shouldn't enter the medbay without his permission."

It was only then that Sunstreaker seemed to register the other's existence, and gave an abrupt reaction, which caught Trailbreaker totally off guard. In a split second, he snatched the black mech's wrist and twisted it behind his back, shoving him against the wall. Trailbreaker yelped in pain. Brawn, who stood nearby, rushed to his rescue, only to be sent flying away by a well-aimed kick.

"Sunstreaker!" Ironhide yelled angrily, but the yellow twin paid it no mind.

"What happened to Sideswipe?!" he shouted at Trailbreaker, knowing that he was the chief of the patrol team, and so, in his opinion – being the one responsible directly for his brother's injury.

"We – We were ambushed!" Trailbreaker cried, squirming against the wall. "Sideswipe did his Jet Judo on Starscream, then he fell and Starscream shot him. But, he didn't crash to the earth. Powerglide intercepted his fall, but then he was in emergency statis lock already! We tried our best to get back to the Ark as soon as possible, even called for Omega Supreme to help pick up and transport us to the Ark!"

Sunstreaker narrowed his optics, but loosened his hold, letting Trailbreaker wheeze the air into his ventilation system. That was all Ironhide needed; the old warrior shot the psychopath with a shock gun, causing him to fall face-down on the floor. Trailbreaker flipped his back against the wall and side stepped away from where Sunstreaker fell as Ironhide went to straddle him, holding his arm behind his back in the same manner he had done to Trailbreaker earlier.

"Got him," Ironhide grunted.

"Let me GO!" roared Sunstreaker, thrashing violently, seemingly recovered from the shock gun's shot.

"Behave yourself, Sunstreaker." Prowl's voice came from the other end of the hallway as the SIC stalked towards the medbay, Jazz slightly behind him. They both came to stand before the spot where Ironhide straddled Sunstreaker. Jazz turned to check on Trailbreaker and Brawn.

"Ya alright?" Jazz asked the two Autobots.

"Yeah, my arm still functions alright," Trailbreaker rubbed his wrist while Brawn scowled with a newly created dent at his midsection plating, but other than that just looked fine.

"He's crazy," the minibot grumbled "We didn't hurt Sideswipe. Actually, we saved his brother when he _wasn't_ even there. The least he should do is thanking us!"

Prowl nodded, then turned to fix his narrow-optics gaze at the yellow warrior, who still struggled against his captor.

"Or should I send you to the brig _now_?" the SIC asked calmly.

Sunstreaker ceased his struggling at that, though still heaving, cast an aghast look at the SIC. Prowl couldn't do this to him. He had to be with Sideswipe NOW. He had to stay close to his twin, searching, calling, dragging Sideswipe's stray spark back to him.

"No.." a whisper escaped his lipplates. Then, the medbay's door slid open with a whoosh, and out growled a gruff voice.

"Sunstreaker is _not_ going anywhere, or so help me Primus, I'm gonna slag him and whoever makes him go."

*****


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N_-OMG, this chapter's the longest! I didn't intend to make it that long, but the story seemed to have a life of its own and write itself out, especially Sides' memory in the first part of this chapter. I thought of cutting it into two chapters, but the first part in Sides' POV related to the last part in Sunny's POV, so I decided to post it as one chapter.

This chapter's quite angsty and a bit sappy, not that I can help it =P Oh, and I apologize for any errors, especially the conversations. I'm not the English native and have no use of the English in my daily life anyway.

Next chapter will be the last, please hang on!

**Spark Capture**

-6-

_Muffled shouts, bangs of metal crashing, loud explosions and hurried stampedes indicating the ferocious battle raging on from the other side of the prison rang distinctly in his audio receptors even though he was distant from the scene. He slowed his paces and cautiously pressed his backplates against the wall of the dark empty hallway as he neared the main hallway that would lead him to where the battle was going on, the only exit of the prison – he thought with a grimace, bracing himself for a fight should he face any mechs coming this way, Decepticons or not._

_For the first time, he was glad to be thrown into the solitary zone, distant from where all prisoners and captives were being kept under Decepticon's guards. Deserted as it was, the cell was easily broken when the power supply went off from the attack. He might be able to sneak his way out of this damn prison if he was lucky enough as to slip past the commotion without getting caught. Even if he wasn't that lucky, he could still fight his way to freedom, thanks to those slagging Decepticons for their 'training course', which had turned a merchant into a killer._

_Being loud mouthed and brash attracted the attention in a bad way. Sunstreaker always told him that he would get himself in a serious trouble someday despite his cunning skills. Oh, how true his twin had been. He had first attracted the attention of the Decepticons with his stupid brashness as to provoke them, when they had crammed him along with other captives into the city's prison. Little had he known that he had also attracted the attention of an old friend – his partner in illegal trade whom he had sent to the prison earlier – who was too eager to give him a payback._

_The payback, which had turned out to be a murder attempt, had once again attracted the attention of the Decepticons as his attacker had been the one deactivated instead. A mech, who could kill with bare hands, had been a potential recruit, but he had been too shocked and incoherent to be in any uses. So, they had thrown him into a solitary cell, keeping him like some sort of wild turbo fox needed to be tamed into a pet. Each time he had refused to join them, they would send a prisoner or a captive into his cell with a promise of freedom if said prisoner were able to kill him. He had survived all of that, kill before being killed, with the only hope to get back to his twin._

_And now was his chance as the Decepticons were attacked by 'Tytra resistance force' as they had broadcasted to alert their soldiers and call for the reinforcement before the power supply went off._

_He tensed at the footfall from the main hallway; faint at first, but gradually louder as it was coming closer. Each step hammered a pounding of anxiety in his spark. It could be a Decepticon coming to check on him. He gritted his denta, braced and then flung himself into the main hallway, intending to launch a surprise attack on the unsuspecting Decepticon. However, upon catching sight of the approaching mech, he stood frozen on the spot, his fighting stance forgotten._

_Sunstreaker stopped in his tracks, standing still in front of him._

_He knew he should let out a whoop of joy and pounce on the other for a bear-hug at their seemingly out of nowhere and all too well reunion, but his processor stopped him for some unknown reasons. It was when he reached out in their bond and made optics contact with his twin that he finally realized what was wrong._

_He still couldn't feel Sunstreaker's spark in the bond._

_It was beyond frightening. How come he couldn't feel his other half spark's presence when he was practically standing in front of him? In fact, he should have felt his brother's presence since he had entered the prison's periphery. Now, all he could feel in the bond was still the same dull buzzing noise like an incorrect frequency. His spark's calling went unanswered, drowned out by the annoying buzz. Worse, he stared into Sunstreaker's optics, only to see a crazed and haunted look without any traces of recognition._

_Sunstreaker didn't remember him._

"_Sunny…" he ventured hesitantly, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder._

_In a flash, he found himself flying backwards, slamming into the hallway's wall so hard that his vision blurred for a moment, and his audio receptors picking up a 'CRACK'. Then, he slid to the floor in an ungraceful heap. Struggling to rise, he caught a swift movement out of the corner of his optic, and this time, managed to dodge a powerful kick aiming at his head._

"_Sunstreaker!" he cried, both from his vocalizer and his spark, but it seemed his call didn't reach his brother. Something was wrong with their bond; it was like their sparks were out of sync. The more he tried to call with his spark, the louder the buzzing noise in the bond got. Nevertheless, he knew instinctively that he had no choice but to find his twin's spark in this out of tune bond. Sunstreaker was lost somewhere in the bond and that was his fault, because he had left him, losing his connection to the bond from the shock of his first killing._

_A fist smashed his chest, cracking the plates. He choked out a gasp of pain, staggering backward, grasping the damaged area of his chestplates._

"_Slaggit! Sunny," he shouted, knowing he had to stop the other or else he would be deactivated by him. "Knock it off!"_

_Another punch shot towards his faceplates. He ducked in time and swept Sunstreaker's feet from under him, causing the other to fall on his back. He wasted no time to pounce on his twin's sprawled form, straddling on his stomach. Sunstreaker struggled to rise, so he grabbed his neck with one hand then slammed his head back down, and leaned forward, pinning him on the floor with his weight._

_Heaving, optics a bit feral from a thrill of the fight, he tightened his grip on his brother's throat until the dermal plates buckled. He growled; voice low and tight. "Snap out of it or I'll wake you up with my fis, and your handsome faceplates will be no more."_

_Sunstreaker's optics flickered then dimmed as if he was going to pass out. Startled, he hastily let go of the other's throat, thinking that he had overdone and injured his twin. "Oh, I'm sorry-"_

_He was cut off as Sunstreaker suddenly bucked hard, flinging his leg up to deliver a harsh kick at the back of his helm. He crumbled and Sunstreaker reversed their positions. For a moment, their optics locked; he put all of his will in his gaze, searching for any signs of consciousness in his twin's optics, but finding none. Then, Sunstreaker gripped the edge of his broken chestplates and brutally ripped off a piece of it, exposing his internal parts, circuits and wires as well as his spark chamber._

_An agonized scream was torn out of his vocalizer. White hot pain shot through his systems, nearly knocking him offline. His mind reeling in pain, his processor fritzing, then his spark acted out of its own accord as though there were some sort of instinct or innermost core programming embedded in his being. Spark chamber slid open, revealing his glowing pulsing spark, which bathed Sunstreaker in its warm light._

_Sunstreaker went still, a piece of red plate dropped from his hand. A pulse of his other half spark re-emerged from the depth of their bond while the buzzing gradually quieted down until it vanished, leaving the bond with two halves of a single spark, resonating each other's pulsing._

"_Sides..." breathed Sunstreaker, looked like he had just woken up from a long recharge, his voice merely a whisper._

"_Sunny," he sobbed, partially from the pain and partially from the relief._

_Sunstreaker took in all details of his injuries; optics widened at the sight of torn chestplates, which started to ooze energon, and a glowing spark residing within._

"…_Primus," Sunstreaker whimpered. He fell back and wiggled away on his elbows and skidplates, then collapsed on his side and curled in on himself, sobbing violently._

"_Oh, Primus! What have I done? What Have I Done?"_

_Getting up on his knees, he crawled over awkwardly to where Sunstreaker lay curling. His spark chamber already closed._

"_Sunny," he said softly, laying a comforting hand on his twin's quivering shoulder._

"_Don't!" Sunstreaker gasped, jerking away from the touch. "Don't touch me. Stay away from me. I'm a monster. I almost killed you. I-"_

"_Sunstreaker!" he barked, gripping his shoulders and hauling him up to his knees, forcing him to look at his faceplates. Despite the harsh calling, his optics were soft blue, his expression gentle; when he said again, his tone held as much, if not more gentleness and affection. "Look at me, bro. You didn't kill me. I'm still alive, I'm here."_

"_Sideswipe," Sunstreaker touched his faceplates with trembling fingers as if to reassure himself that he was really here._

"_I've waited for you just as you've told me to," he leaned in and touched his forehead with Sunstreaker's. "And now you come back to me. That's all that matters, bro."_

_Finally calmed down, Sunstreaker carefully wrapped his arms around him, drawing him in a gentle embrace. He tilted his head slightly, adjusting for a better angle of their forehead touching. A small serene smile appeared on his faceplates._

"_Thank you for not giving up on me. Now, I'm back and we'll never be apart again, bro."_

_---_

Ratchet walked out of the medbay's door into the hallway – a frown firmly placed on his faceplates – then the door slid close. He only took a few steps and stopped just in front of the door, guarding the entrance of the medbay should anyone, especially a certain yellow maniac, try to break into the area. He swept a stern gaze past everyone gathering in the hallway before fixed it at the subdued Sunstreaker.

The gaze intensified into a glare.

"I didn't call for you to create havoc at my medbay. If you want to go on a rampage, do it somewhere else, but after I'm done my slagging business with you." The CMO growled then nodded to Ironhide, signalling him to free the yellow twin. Ironhide grunted, but released his hold on Suntreaker, stood up and stepped away, allowing Sunstreaker to get up on his feet. All the fights seemed to drain out of Sunstreaker as he slowly picked himself up and stood there quietly, staring past the medic to the closed door.

"How are the casualties?" Prowl asked.

"Perceptor's working on Powerglide," Ratchet replied, his frown deepened. "His damage's nothing serious. Perceptor'll finish fixing the idiot in two hours. Smokescreen, on the other hand, won't leave the medbay until tomorrow. His legs are completely crushed from the knees down, and need a replacement. Wheeljack's detaching his knee joints and will have a new set of legs ready by tomorrow morning."

"What about Sideswipe?" Oddly enough, it was Brawn, who asked the question instead of Sunstreaker, who seemed to be in stupefied silence whether it was a result of Prowl's threat or Ratchet's. "Why is he in stasis lock? I didn't see any fatal damage on him."

Ratchet's expression turned furious. "Actually, his damage's the least compared to Powerglide and Smokescreen. A Null ray shot from Starscream didn't even scratch his chesplates, should have shocked him into temporary stasis only. But, it triggered a sudden spark failure instead, which shut down his systems and sent him into emergency stasis lock. I've connected him to a stabilizer, keeping his spark stable for the time being"

The CMO faceplates darkened as his optics narrowed, scrutinizing everyone with his piercing glare as if searching for a culprit behind Sideswipe's breakdown, his tone changed to threatening. "A sudden spark failure is a severe case that shouldn't happen to a _healthy_ mech. I did run a through scan over his systems and the result indicates that Sideswipe hasn't been _healthy_ recently. His energon is at a low level. His systems are strained from tension and recharge deprivation. His spark readings even show a few records of spark convulsion – a primary symptom of spark malfunction – just several hours before he was shot. Slaggit to the Pit! He shouldn't have been on duty in the first place!" He finished his angry rant with an accusing glare shot towards the SIC.

Prowl frowned, contemplated the implied accusation before slowly responded. "..I didn't know the confinement affect him that much or I wouldn't have sent him out on the patrol. It's totally unreasonable to send the unhealthy mech on the mission."

"Oh, sure you didn't know!" Ratchet spat, clenching his hands into tight fists, "and now I have a spark fading mech to deal with!"

"Hey, easy doc," Jazz held his hands up in a placated manner. "We all don't want anyone to get injured. Sides just looked tired after his release from the brig. Though, he stumbled and clutched at his spark chamber, but who would've thought he had a spark convul-" the saboteur froze at his slip of glossa as the medic whipped his head to glare at him.

"You KNEW?!" Ratchet seethed, optics bulged. "You knew he malfunction, and didn't drag him to the medbay?!"

A wrench flew to collide against Jazz's helm with a resounding bang, bounced off and went straight to Trailbreaker, who lifted up his force shield just in time to protect his head. Jazz yelped, hands covering his head.

"I didn't know it's serious!" Jazz cried. "He said he's fine. I thought he's just tired so I left him to rest."

A soft keening voice stopped the brawl. Everyone's attention turned to the yellow twin, who hunched and clutched his chestplates above his spark chamber, wailing in despair. Sunstreaker was oblivious to the fact that he was showing weakness – imperfection – in front of the others. What was the point of being perfect alone anyway? There was no perfection without Sideswipe. All he could feel now was despair and guilt overwhelming his consciousness. He should have felt what had been wrong with Sideswipe's spark since their confrontation at their quarters, but he had been too absorbed in his own anger, and then he had shut out his other half in selfishness to protect his pride. He had done it again. Letting go of his twin. Last time, Sideswipe had found him, navigating his lost spark back to their bond. Now that Sideswipe was lost, his spark slowly fading, what would he do? He just didn't know how to bring him back!

"Get a grip of yourself, Sunstreaker!" a shout accompanied with a harsh shaking roused him from his mental turmoil. Ironhide gripped his shoulders so hard, shaking him roughly. Then, Ratchet shoved Ironhide aside, grabbing the top edge of his chestplates, hauling him up on tiptoe.

"Don't you dare go nuts on me," hissed the medic. "You are the only one who can save Sideswipe. And I swear to Primus, I'm going to deactivate you if you don't help me dragging your stupid twin back."

"What – How?" Sunstreaker chocked, his voice slightly muffled with a faint sob. "I don't know how to-"

"Use your spark, imbecile," Ratchet all but rolled his optics, exasperated at the stupid twin. "Come on, we're wasting the time and Sideswipe can't wait forever."

The CMO let go of the warrior, turned on his heel and walked back to press access code on the panel beside the door. The door slid open; he turned to glare at the mech, who still stood dumb-founded on the same spot.

"Well?" he growled threateningly.

Regaining composure, Sunstreaker went after Ratchet into the medbay.

Once he was inside the medbay, his gaze quickly found his other half, and he strode towards him without any care about Smokescreen or Powerglide lying on the repair berths he passed by. Wheeljack and Perceptor paid little attention to him as they focused on their patients. First Aid, who stood monitoring the stabilizer, lifted his head up at the approaching footfalls.

"Any changes?" Ratchet asked as he inspected another device connected to Sideswipe's still form.

"Energon level is up to 65%, but his spark remains unresponsive," the Protectobot pointed at the monitor of the stabilizer. "See? The pulse never rises above this level."

The conversation between the medics was lost on Sunstreaker as he stood by the repair berth, staring at his offline brother. At this close, he could feel Sideswipe's spark pulse weakly – an automatic reaction to the stabilizer. Their bond felt fragile, ready to disintegrate at any moment. He felt numb; his anger, sorrow, panic, fear slowly seeped out of him, leaving half of his being a void shell.

Sideswipe was dying, and he would never be _whole_ again.

"Hey," Ratchet grabbed his shoulder and gave him a shake. "Stop staring and move your aft over here." The CMO gestured to the space on the other side of the berth. This repair birth was wide enough for two mechs to lie side by side. Sideswipe's frame occupied half of the space and the other half was empty. When he gave no reaction, the medic slapped him across the faceplates.

"Don't you dare give up," the medic locked optics with his, voice determined and fierce. "Sideswipe's still not giving up; his spark's not extinguished yet, and I'm not giving up, too!"

"_Thank you for not giving up on me. Now, I'm back and we'll never be apart again, bro."_

His own voice rang in his head, startling him out of the numbness chilling his spark. Sideswipe never gave up on him. He had searched, called, navigated his spark back when he had been lost. And now, he was giving up on Sideswipe? No! He wouldn't give up! He had promised Sideswipe they would never be apart again. This time, he would find Sideswipe and bring him back.

Ratchet watched the gleaming light return to Sunstreaker's optics then nodded, motioning him to lie down on the berth beside Sideswipe. Once he had the twins lying side by side on the berth, he nodded to First Aid then looked down at Sunstreaker.

"I'm going to connect your spark chamber directly to Sideswipe's," Ratchet explained. "Indeed, his damage is not dangerous. The problem is that his spark malfunctioned; it might be the result of his weakened state of health. From what I've heard, he didn't take energon and barely recharged during the confinement. And he seemed to be under a great amount of mental stress for a while. It caused several spark convulsions and then he was shot at the spark chamber, which shocked his weakened spark into spark failure. So, if we can stimulate and tune up his spark to normal rhythm, then his systems will re-function automatically."

"But," Ratchet's voice turned serious, "your brother is in stasis lock and his spark is weak. The stimulation from your systems and engine is too much, and will extinguish his spark instead. So, I have to put you into stasis lock, leaving only your spark to operate this rescue mission. Are you okay with that?"

"Do it already," Sunstreaker replied firmly.

Ratchet started the procedure to shut down Sunstreaker's systems one by one until the yellow twin was in stasis lock. Meanwhile, First Aid prepared Sideswipe for a spark connection, opening his chestplates and pulling out the transfusion cable.

"Ready?" Ratchet asked his assistant, pulling out Sunstreaker's transfusion cable.

"Yes," First Aid switched off the stabilizer, disconnecting Sideswipe from the device.

They connected the twins' transfusion cable to each other's port. Ratchet took a step back and looked up into a monitor above the berth, which showed two spark signals; one pulsed rhythmically, the other almost stilled.

"It's up to Sunstreaker now," Ratchet muttered.

*****

_Everything was dark. He stood there in the darkness. Whirling around, he tried to see through the darkness, searching for Sideswipe. Still, he couldn't see anything._

'_Sides!' he yelled, only to hear his own voice echoed back to him. It seemed he was alone in this mysterious space. But, he knew he wasn't. Sideswipe was here; he was lost somewhere in this darkness and he would find him._

'_Sides, answer me!' he started to run forward, 'Where are you?!'_

_He shouted and cursed in frustration, running without specific direction. This darkness and silence was maddening, slowly driving him crazy. He kept screaming until his vocalizer hurt, running until his legs nearly gave out. Yet, he saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing – wait!_

_He stopped in his tracks. Heaving, optics widened in surprise, he turned around, trying to pinpoint where this faint feeling came from. Again, he couldn't see through the darkness. But, how did he know there is something in this place? His spark pulsed. Gasping, he clutched at his chestplates above his spark chamber as realization dawned on him. He felt it with his spark._

_Off lining his optics, turning off his audio receptors, he stood still and waited with a hand placing on chestplates above his spark chamber. With other senses shut down, his feeling was becoming clearer, sharper. There again, a tug pulled at his spark, unsynchronized with his spark pulse, but ringing to his core. He walked towards the direction of that feeling, his optics and audio receptors still off. He came closer and his spark started to respond to the presence of that feeling._

_A pulse resonated in his spark. His optics came online in a flash, catching sight of something red laid on the ground not far from him._

'_Sideswipe!' he heard himself yell; his audio receptors had to be re-functioned already._

_His twin lay motionless – no, he was moving, wait, was he sinking?_

_Indeed, Sideswipe was lying – seemingly unconscious – and slowly sinking into the ground as if it were a sandpit. Panicked, he ran towards his brother, and dived in to catch him. He managed to land on the rim of the sandpit and caught the other's wrist, but his twin continued to sink further into the pit. He gasped, feeling his grip was slowly slipping._

'_No,' he cried desperately. He had let go of his twin once in the past. Now that he found Sideswipe and got a hold of him, he would never let go again!_

'_No, Sides!' he shouted, tightening his hold, his grip slipping from the wrist to the palm now._

'_Slaggit! Sides, hold my hand! I won't let go, I won't lose you!!' he all but screamed at the top of his vocalizer and his spark._

_A powerful pulse responded to his spark call. A hand in his hold gripped back with as much force._

_---_

"—he made it!" a voice was distant, but becoming louder to him.

Sunstreaker came to his senses like resurfacing from under the water. His vision dimmed at first, but gradually brightened and cleared. He was lying on his back next to someone. Ratchet faceplates came into his sight, smiling warmly at him for once.

"Welcome back, you two," greeted the CMO. "You did a good job, Sunstreaker."

It was then that he felt the presence of his other half spark in the bond, pulsing right next to him. He turned his head to the side, and was met with the most beautiful sight he had ever laid his optics on – Sideswipe's smiling faceplates. He glanced down to see their hands locked together, fingers intertwined. He stared at their hands in awe for a while and slowly gazed up to lock optics with his brother's again.

"Sunny," Sideswipe said softly, his spark pulsed in greeting.

"Sides," Sunstreaker answered in the same tone, his lipplates curled up into a happy smile, his spark returned the greeting in the synchronized rhythm.

*****


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N_-Finally! I was afraid that I'd never finish this story. It took me forever to write the final chapter. Sorry for a long waiting. It seemed that I suddenly lost the plot, and then tons of work came bombarding me in May, efficiently killed my inspiration .

Anyway, thank you all readers, reviews, favourites and alerts. You're wonderful! =D

**Spark Capture**

-7-

After that, Sunstreaker stood by the repair berth, his own minor hands' injuries already tended. He watched First Aid repair other injuries on Sideswipe, his gaze still locked with his twin's. They still didn't have a chance to talk to each other after that greeting since Sideswipe had rebooted from emergency stasis lock. He barely noticed Ratchet's not-so-gentle discharge of Powerglide as the medic led Wheeljack, Perceptor and the newly fixed Powerglide out of the medbay with a threatening tirade. He simply stood there, basking in the comforting feel of Sideswipe's presence in the bond, oblivious to the world around him. Then, Sunstreaker found himself being yanked away by Ratchet, who grabbed his audio receptor fin and dragged him away towards the medbay's door.

"What the frag? Ratchet!" he yelled, craning his head to look back at Sideswipe.

"Out! I'm done my business with you already. So, get the slag out of my medbay!" the medic snapped and shot a look at Sideswipe, who struggled to sit up. "And you," he hissed, "lie down or I'll weld you to the berth!"

The medbay's door slid open and Ratchet practically threw the Lamborghini out unceremoniously, startling another mech standing nearby. Sunstreaker skidded to a halt and whipped his head to glare at the CMO, only to get an equally intimidating glare in return.

"If you want to wait, then wait out here," Ratchet told him, voice irritated but somewhat calmer than his usual snappish tone. Then, he turned to Jazz, who was the only one left waiting outside of the medbay. The others had left, going back to their respective duties, after Ratchet had announced Sideswipe's condition to them when he had discharged Powerglide earlier. "Sideswipe'll be out in half an hour. Keep an optic on the idiot until then. Don't let him do stupid things in front of my medbay."

"Aye aye," the saboteur saluted with a grin. Ratchet regarded Sunstreaker for a moment, giving him one last warning look before closing the door.

Disgruntled, Sunstreaker settled to wait, stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chassis. He could feel Jazz's gaze on him and knew the other is up to something other than waiting for Sideswipe.

"What do you want?" he asked, wanting the other to get over whatever he was up to and leave him alone.

"Well," Jazz started, "I don't know what those paintings are to ya or why ya kept'em hidden, but ya not the only one upset. Sides looked sad when he cleared the mess of his portrait. It's really a shame to destroy such a fine art like that."

Sunstreaker stiffened; seeing this, Jazz hurriedly added, holding up his hands in defence, "Hey, I know it's yer family's matter and I'm not interfering yer problem," he hesitated, "..just wanna see you two make up."

Sunstreaker's expression lost its rigidity. He stared at Jazz for a long moment before responded in a serene voice, "I'm not mad at Sideswipe…not anymore."

Jazz's faceplates lit up with a big grin. Sunstreaker sounded sincere; the officer could tell that he really meant it. "I'm glad to hear that and so would Sides, ya know," he drawled out good naturedly, visor flashing in an equivalent of a wink.

"I know," the warrior's voice sounded a little gruff as he looked away, feeling awkward at his own submissiveness, but couldn't bring himself to argue against the implied suggestion. Either way, he had to make it up to Sideswipe for their stupid fight which had almost caused him to lose his twin.

Thankfully, if Jazz noticed Sunstreaker's awkwardness, he didn't say anything to embarrass the warrior any further. He simply grinned amusedly. They stood, waiting in companionable silence until the medbay's door slid open, and Sideswipe flew out into the hallway with a hammer thrown after him accompanied with Ratchet's roar.

"Get Out! I don't want to see you in my medbay for a week. If you so much as to get yourself slagged again so soon, I'll rip you into pieces for spare parts!"

The door slid shut with the sense of finality, leaving the three mechs staring at the ominous entrance of the Pit in silence for a while before slowly leveling their gazes back amongst themselves. Heaving a sigh, Sideswipe scratched the back of his helm and mumbled, "Gee, sometimes I wonder why he bothers to put me back together at all."

Jazz laughed and clapped his back. "Cuz ya his favourite patient. I wouldn't dream of such an honour."

Sideswipe grinned and returned a clap, then turned his head to give a cheeky smile at his brother, who returned a small barely noticeable smirk of his own. Sensing a good sign of 'make up', Jazz quickly excused himself, leaving the twins to sort out their trouble in privacy.

Finally, there were only the two of them standing in the hallway. Although Sideswipe looked fine, Sunstreaker felt the other's fatigue through the bond and cancelled his intention to have a spark-to-spark talk with him – that could wait until later. For now, Sideswipe needed to rest. Sideswipe's intention, on the other hand, seemed to differ from his brother. His cheeky smile turned fierce, a malicious glint flashing in his optics. Sunstreaker barely had a time to blink before Sideswipe struck, decking him with a hook which caught him by surprise, landing him on his aft ungracefully.

"What the frag was that for?" he demanded, glaring daggers at his twin, only to get an equally nasty look in return.

Hands on hipplates, Sideswipe shot back with a huff, "THAT was for blocking me out, you slagger!" Then, he broke off and chuckled, a mischievous grin plastered on his faceplates once more. "And now, we're even for the first round, but don't think you're off the hook yet. I'm in no way finishing with you"

He held out his hand to Sunstreaker as a sign of peace offering. "Let's go back to our quarters before Ratchet decides to disassemble us for real."

Sunstreaker stared for a moment, then smirked and took hold of the waiting hand, more than willing to play along with Sideswipe's antics. That was always how they made up after a fight; trusted Sideswipe to initiate the first step of reconciliation in his own teasing style, and soon, they would find themselves bickering, swatting at each other and laughing together again, leaving all the bitterness and the guilt behind. This time, however, it wasn't going to be that easy, especially on Sunstreaker's part. There were questions to be answered, things to be explained and an apology to be made. Not that he would shy from them, anyway. He had made up his mind. There were to be no secrets between them; he would make sure of that.

Sideswipe helped hauling his twin up to his feet, then to his surprise, found himself being pulled close to his brother's side. Sunstreaker released his hand, only to sling an arm casually around his neck instead, securing the red twin comfortably to his side. Sideswipe cast a curious glance at his brother in mild surprise, apparently not expecting an affectionate gesture out here in the open where everyone could see. To which, Sunstreaker only urged him to move along as he walked them back to their quarters.

Once they were in their room, their gazes landed on the dull metal box on the desk simultaneously. Sideswipe disengaged himself from Sunstreaker's arm and went to the desk. Gathering all paintings from the box, he sat down on the bottom bunk of their recharge berths, paintings stacked in his lap, looking through them one by one with longing optics as though they were _his_ long lost treasures. In a sense, they were. He had seen Sunstreaker paint them with artistic passion shown on his faceplates, had given comments on how he had liked them, had cherished them, had shared the pride his twin possessed when someone had shown admiration towards them. Not just being a part of his memory, these paintings had been so much a part of his life he could say that they were his as much as Sunstreaker's. Looking up, he saw the same longing look in Sunstreaker's optics, even felt it seep into his spark through the bond – now that there was no barrier between them – and mingle with his feeling. A gentle smile appeared on his faceplates as he patted the space at his side, signalling the other to come and sit beside him, which his twin complied wordlessly.

"Never thought I'd see these paintings again," he said, gaze fixed on the paintingpad currently in his hands, fingertips caressing the outline of Tytra's buildings lovingly. "I always love this one the most."

"So do I," Sunstreaker whispered, staring down at his hands resting in his lap, unable to let his optics wander to his most beloved work or the person holding it lest he snatch it away and smash it with his hands.

"You've been keeping them all the time," Sunstreaker didn't look up, but knew instinctively that Sideswipe was now turning his gaze on him while he said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

The question was simple, devoid of accusation or anger that had been there when it had been asked the first time, yet he still found it hard to operate his vocalizer. His voice came out as a croak at first, but gradually gained volume as his emotions got the better of him.

"How could I tell you? I left you for these paintings and you ended up getting caught by the Decepticons. It was all my fault! I should've been there for you, but I was so selfish, so blind as to choose them over you – my own twin. If I didn't leave you, then we wouldn't get separated at all."

"It wasn't your fault," Sideswipe soothed, sending a wave of comfort through the bond. Though, he didn't try to stop the other's confession, knowing his brother needed to let out all pent up secrets, guilt and frustration as much as Sideswipe needed to know what had been hidden from him. They both needed this to mend the rift between them.

Sunstreaker continued his rant; now that he had started pouring out his spark, he just couldn't stop it, "I was terrified when I knew you were captured and it only got worse when you suddenly disappeared from the bond. All I could think at that time was what if you were _deactivated_…because I left you to get these Primus-slagging paintings? They weren't worth it. Not at all. Nothing in the universe was worth it compared to you, my other half. I should've thought of that before I let go of you, but I _didn't_. What kind of a brother was I? Thinking that made me angry and I just wanted to destroy them all, but I couldn't…a pathetic part of me still loved them. When we finally reunited, I just couldn't tell you I had saved them. I – I was afraid that you might not forgive me. Even when you found out today, I was too cowardly to tell you 'I'm sorry' and just covered it up with anger, lashing out at you instead. How disgusting I am!" His voice thick with bitterness, hands clenched into tight fists in his lap.

Then, a black hand wrapped loosely around his slightly trembling fist, a physical comfort added to the flow of sympathy and soothing feelings surrounding, caressing and embracing his spark gently. He gazed up from that hand to its owner's faceplates and saw a sad smile and equally sad, yet loving optics staring at him. The stare captured his spark and his entire being that he couldn't look away; and surprisingly, Sunstreaker found that he didn't have to. There was no guilt or shame in being on the receiving end of Sideswipe's stare like he thought it was supposed to be. A weight on his shoulders seemed to dissipate into thin air as well as the cold fear gripping his spark during his ranting earlier.

Sideswipe squeezed his hand lightly as he said, "Don't ever say you'll destroy your paintings. I'm glad you didn't do that. How can I loathe them? I love you, bro. And I know these paintings are a part of you; destroying them means destroying you – I'll never want that."

His smile turned slightly bitter, Sideswipe was overcome with guilt himself – now that he had heard his brother's confession – and decided that it was only fair to give out his own confession as well. "I know how much you love to paint. You always love the arts, even until now. But you've disguised your feelings ever since that separation – no, since I lost my connection to the bond. Even though it's involuntary, the truth remained still that I _left_ you for a whole slagging month. Worse, I even played along with your pretence, when I should've known your true feelings all these years. When I found your paintings, I was actually angrier at myself for turning my back on that part of you, for not noticing it. I'm sorry, Sunny."

Sunstreaker interlaced his fingers with the hand holding his and gave a tug, pulling Sideswipe towards him. His other arm swung around Sideswipe's neck, bringing him close as he leaned to touch his forehead with Sideswipe's. Off lining his optics, he let out a sigh.

"I'm sorry, too, Sides," he said sincerely.

They remained in that comfortable hug for a while, accepting apology and forgiving each other before pulling back. Sideswipe grinned cheerfully, passing the painting of their hometown to its creator. Sunstreaker stared down at the paintingpad in his hands as though he wasn't the one painting it. He never thought of having a chance to simply enjoy seeing these paintings with his twin again. A familiar warm feeling of contentment bubbled up in his spark as a smile crept up on his faceplates, which made Sideswipe even more gleeful. A while later, the paintings were shifted to Sunstreaker's lap, and they looked through all of them together, revelling in happy memories they brought back, which reminded Sideswipe of an unsolved mystery still nagging at him.

"Sunny," he ventured tentatively, "I've never seen _that_ portrait before. I mean the one you broke. When did you paint it?"

Sunstreaker put down the painting of Crystal City and heaved a sigh, looked like he didn't want to talk about it, yet he answered anyway. "I made it when I was in the Tytra resistance force, just a few days after you had disappeared from the bond. I _needed_ something resembling you with me lest I go insane"

"I see," Sideswipe nodded understandingly. He had felt the same during that torturous month, and might have gone crazy himself if not for the constant 'distractions' sent into his cell, courtesy of the Decepticons. And sometimes, there had been an odd feeling like he could somewhat sense Sunstreaker's presence vaguely close to his spark despite their out-of-tune bond, which had calmed him down and given him hope.

"What a shame," he sighed wistfully, "it was my portrait and I only saw it for a few minutes." Then, he brightened again. "Hey, Sunny, could you paint another one for me? It'll be great to see you working in the field of arts again."

"I'm a warrior," Sunstreaker frowned. "I'm no longer an artist. I can't paint anymore."

"Oh~ come on," Sideswipe wheedled. "I can tell you crave to hold a paintbrush again. You want to paint and I want you to paint. So, what's the problem?"

"You saw it," Sunstreaker looked away, determinedly fixing his gaze on the far wall where he had hurled the portrait at. "Your portrait was my last painting and it was all wrong. It resembled you alright, but it looked noting like you at all. I couldn't paint your smile or your liveliness no matter how much I tried to. Every time I looked at it, I saw a sparkless statue, not my twin. Didn't you see? It was my failure. I've changed and I can't go back to the way I used to be."

"No!" Sideswipe retorted, slapping his hands on Sunstreaker's cheeks, trapping his faceplates and forcing his head to turn towards him. Sunstreaker scowled, but Sideswipe wasn't about to be deterred.

"Look, bro," he said patiently, hoping he could get through his twin's thick helm to give some sense into his processor. "I'm your other half. No one in the universe knows you better than I do. Yeah, maybe you've changed – I've changed, too – but you're still you. You were desperate at that time, and so was I. That separation affected us badly; slag, it still affects me. I was so depressed when Prowl sentenced me to solitary in the brig five days ago 'cause it reminded me of that slagging solitary in Tytra. See? We were both miserable at that time. So, how the frag could you paint me all happy and smiley? If you did paint my portrait like that, it would only be a fake. Really, I didn't see anything wrong with that portrait; you just painted the truth."

Sunstreaker was stunned by his twin's lecture, unable to come up with any objections. The reason he didn't draw or paint anything again was mainly because he felt guilty towards his brother and thought he had lost his talents already – with that portrait as an obvious evidence – that he wouldn't be able to work in the arts again, even if he wanted to. Never did he consider the cause of his failure in making Sideswipe's portrait to be anything other than that he had changed and lost his skills to the rage consuming his spark. Sideswipe's words brought a new light, something akin to hope, to his reeling mind. Was what Sideswipe said true? That he didn't lose his skills after all. Perhaps, he could paint again?

"It wasn't your failure," continued Sideswipe. "Yeah, it looked sombre and emotionless, but it wasn't exactly sparkless. If anything, I'd say it was so sparkful that it looked _alive_ as if a part of my spark was there."

Releasing his hold, Sideswipe still locked optics with Sunstreaker's, watching as his words sank in, slowly working their way into his twin's processor and turning some gears in his head. A look on Sunstreaker's faceplates now was priceless that he would have laughed if the situation wasn't so serious. His brother looked like he had just realized how stupid he had been. Really, he could be such a glitch head sometimes.

"I'm not forcing you to do anything you don't want to, you know," Sideswipe stood up, glancing at his brother with a sad smile. "Just think about it."

With that said, he turned and climbed up on his top bunk to take his much needed recharge, leaving his twin to his own devices. He had said what was on his mind already, the decision was Sunstreaker's to make. Even as he slipped into the realm of recharge, he still felt his brother's indecisiveness as he sat and pondered the matter silently.

Three days later.

Sunstreaker was in his quarters, sitting on a chair with determination clearly shown on his faceplates, staring intently at the object in front of him. He was alone; Sideswipe was out on his patrol duty, which was good, considering that he needed to concentrate solely on what he was about to do, and couldn't risk having it ruined by any distractions. He hadn't done this for millions of years, anyway.

Lifting his arm, he drew the first line with a length of stroke, long and steady as it had been in the past. A little surprised, he halted and stared at his hand holding a paintbrush for a moment. Admittedly, he had thought that it would be awkward to hold a paintbrush and use it again. Even if he didn't lose his skills, the lack of practice for a long time alone should be enough to hinder his movement. And that it would take some time to get re-accustomed to the activity. Seemed he had been wronged after all.

Shrugging, he added another stroke on the paintingpad, pushing all doubts away from his mind, concentrating only on the movement of his hand, letting inspiration lead him. Each stroke brought back more and more familiarity and confidence, and soon, he was an artist again, painting with fluid movements of hands and optics. The long lost passion ignited his cold spark once more, warming him as the mental image of his inspiration – what captivated his spark – gradually appeared on the paintingpad…

The greeting sight upon Sideswipe's return was to find his twin slouching on a chair facing towards the door, arms crossed over his chassis, head bending so that all the red twin could see of his faceplates was the contented curve of his lipplates. Apparently, Sunstreaker had fallen into recharge while studying a paintingpad on an easel in front of him. Even though he only saw the back of the paintingpad setting on an easel, he could tell that it was a newly finished work of Sunstreaker if a paintbrush, a pallet on a desk or smudges of paint on his twin's glossy plating was any indication.

Sideswipe smiled fondly, genuinely happy to see his brother in this light again. He had felt Sunstreaker's concentration and anxiety during his duty, and had almost felt jumpy himself, but the stress had slowly melted away, replacing by calmness and contentment, which had soothed him comfortingly. He had known what his twin was up to, and had refrained himself from rushing back to his quarters lest Prowl punish him again.

He slowly approached Sunstreaker's recharging form, careful not to interrupt his recharge cycle. Then, he turned to see the painting. His faceplates lit up at the sight as a soft laughter emitted from his vocalizer, his optics twinkling with joy.

There on the easel was the portrait of Sideswipe smiling happily.

-Fin-


End file.
